


Green Was the Color of the Grass

by Saturn_Silk



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/F, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Lilith is sad, Mutual Pining, POV Multiple, Slow Burn, Zelda is sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturn_Silk/pseuds/Saturn_Silk
Summary: As Lilith got up, she spotted a woman sitting in the shade on one of the nearby benches, and she almost did a double-take. The woman was breathtaking. Her arms and legs were on full display, thanks to her short-sleeved black dress, and the afternoon sun deliciously illuminated her milky white skin. Lilith followed the skin of her arms to her neck and up to her face, which was partially hidden behind a stylish pair of sunglasses. Then, there was the hair. The woman’s hair was curled in loose waves, cascading over her shoulders. Lilith couldn’t figure out whether it was red or more of strawberry blonde, but all she knew is that she had a sudden urge to run her fingers through the tresses to establish if it was as silky as it seemed.OR the AU where Lilith and Zelda constantly see each other in the park, but it takes months for either one of them to make a move.
Relationships: Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 33
Kudos: 76
Collections: Madam Spellman Fictober Challenge





	1. Lilith

**Author's Note:**

> (My response to week 1of the Madam Spellman Fictober Challenge: Public Spaces)  
> So, I *might* have gotten carried away. This was supposed to be a 5k oneshot. Oops? Enjoy this 9k of jibberish.

Greendale park, like most things in the town (as Lilith had quickly learned upon arrival), was tiny. Its ground barely covered a full block, a massive contrast to the miles of Central Park that Lilith was accustomed to in New York. Still, walking across the green grass, Lilith found that she didn't mind the downscale, perhaps even preferred it.

What the park lacked in size, it made up for in charm. Walking onto the surprisingly unfenced patch of land, one was met with a tall bronze statue of a man, who according to the plaque at his feet, was the founder of Greendale hundreds of years ago. Wooden benches lined the gravel footpath that stretched diagonally through the park. Large pine trees provided patches of shade, which some of the townsfolk had taken advantage of by placing blankets down and lounging, shielded from the harsh sunlight of the late summer. Closer towards the park’s left side stood a children’s playground, complete with swings, slides, and even a sandpit. Looking past all that, one was met by a seemingly never-ending amount of trees, for the park was built on the cusp of the forest. But by far the park’s best feature was its lake. The body of water was situated slightly off-center from the middle of the park, and it was clearly a popular attraction. It was man-made, with cobblestone laid around it. Children were feeding a small family of ducks, despite a nearby sign strictly prohibiting it. A dog emerged from the shallower side, clutching a tennis ball between its teeth and shaking its black fur as it went, causing a spray of water to follow it as it sprinted towards its master.

Lilith stood transfixed for a couple of moments as she appreciated the scene in front of her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose, savoring the fresh air. She could practically smell the moss, the wet ground, and the tree trunks from the forest. Yes, she thought as she turned around to head back to her one-bedroom apartment, the park would be the perfect place for her to get back into painting. 

***

It took Lilith longer than she would have preferred before she managed to set foot back in the park. Her new apartment might have been small, but that didn’t mean it took her three full days to get all the boxes unpacked and furniture assembled. She hadn’t exactly realized just how much she owned when she packed up her old life. Then again, she wasn’t taking note at the time, more focussed on just getting _out_. 

And now she was. Finally. After spending a couple of months crashing on a friend’s couch with most of her possessions in storage and living out a suitcase, the space to breathe was invigorating. Her apartment was set up just the way she liked it, minimalistic yet homey. With everything in its place, Lilith finally felt ready to venture out. Grabbing a newly purchased sketchbook and some graphite pencils, Lilith set off to the park. It wasn’t a far walk at all, another benefit of living in a smaller town, and within 20 minutes, Lilith was sitting in front of the lake. Being a weekday, the park wasn’t as populated as the previous Saturday that she was there. However, she still decided to leave a considerable distance between her and the body of water for fear that a soaking wet dog might ruin her sketches. 

Sketches. It would have been nice if she could actually produce a sketch, even a rough one. She willed her hand to fly over the paper as it once did, begged her muscle memory to kick in, but nothing. Taking in the lake and the trees that lined the edge of the park was easy. Lilith could clearly envision what she wanted to capture on the paper, but as soon as she moved her hand, her mind hit a brick wall. It was frustrating, to say the least. She had imagined picking up the pencil for the first time in five years would come as second nature to her, almost like riding a bike for the first time after a long break. Certainly, obstacles were expected, a couple of bumps in the road, or a rocky start, but not this. It was like she had completely lost her balance and would now have to relearn the hobby from the start. It didn’t help that the hand that held her freshly sharpened pencil felt stiff and almost as if it didn’t belong to her.

Frustrated, Lilith abandoned her pencil in the grass and cycled between glaring at the treeline and the open sketchbook in her lap. Lunchtime came and went, signaled only by the soft rumble of Lilith’s stomach. Still, no drawing, not even a doodle, was seen. Lilith closed her sketchbook with a loud thud, exasperated, hungry, and overheated. For the first time that day, she turned to face the pathway, hoping that something else would stimulate her brain. An old couple was walking hand in hand, a Jack Russel was rolling in the grass, and a couple of kids populated the playground. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

As Lilith got up, she spotted a woman sitting in the shade on one of the nearby benches, and she almost did a double-take. The woman was _breathtaking_. Her arms and legs were on full display, thanks to her short-sleeved black dress, and the afternoon sun deliciously illuminated her milky white skin. Lilith followed the skin of her arms to her neck and up to her face, which was partially hidden behind a stylish pair of sunglasses. Then, there was the hair. The woman’s hair was curled in loose waves, cascading over her shoulders. Lilith couldn’t figure out whether it was red or more of strawberry blonde, but all she knew is that she had a sudden urge to run her fingers through the tresses to establish if it was as silky as it seemed. 

Suddenly the woman’s head moved a fraction of an inch towards Lilith, and her hand froze from where she was turning the page of her book. Painfully aware that she was standing in the middle of nowhere staring at a stranger, Lilith looked away and scrambled to collect her pencils from the ground. Without a second glance, she made a beeline out of the park, hoping that the woman hadn’t noticed her. 

***

It took a couple more days for Lilith to leave her apartment again. Sporting a bruised ego, a sunburn, and a slight twinge of embarrassment caused her to coop up in her home, lathering her skin with aloe vera. She was stupid to think that the sun wouldn’t be a hazard just because they were weeks away from Fall. This time, however, Lilith was more prepared. Sunglasses and baseball hat securely on her head, she found herself back on the grass, this time further away from the lake than before. She convinced herself that her new position was only due to the shade from a nearby tree. It had nothing to do with the fact that she could see one particular bench from her new spot without having to turn her entire body around.

Her skin felt a little oily due to the cheap sunscreen she had purchased the day before, but at least this time, she didn’t run the risk of facing the sun’s wrath. Lilith didn’t plan on leaving the park until she got some type of sketch down. She was determined not to go home empty-handed again. So water bottle, chocolate bar, sketchbook, and pencil at the ready, Lilith willed herself to get into the right mindset. 

She sat motionless for the first hour. 

She remained motionless for the second.

And also the third. 

Defeatedly, she unwrapped her melted chocolate bar and washed it down with the bottle of warm water. She tossed her sketchbook on the grass and stretched her legs out in front of her, deciding to take a break from pretending that she was going to start working at any moment. 

Eventually, she had to move from her spot, chasing the shadow of the tree as it moved with the sun. Collecting her trash in one hand and her sketchbook in the other, Lilith engaged in a semi-crawl to her left to get back into the shade. Her new spot was even closer to the bench, she realized as she got comfortable. She looked to her side, wondering if the mysterious woman would visit the park again. The bench was exactly the same as when Lilith looked at it over an hour ago: empty. Then, a glimmer of red caught her eyes further down the gravel path. The woman was walking away with her back towards Lilith, sporting a tightfitting navy dress. There was no mistaking that it was her. Her hair was curled similarly as before, and it bounced with every stride she took. Lilith watched her until she disappeared from the park grounds. 

Dejectedly, Lilith turned back towards her still strikingly empty page. She suddenly felt the urge to go home. She moved her hand across the page in a fluid motion, scratching one lone, stick figure tree. There. After all, she promised herself she wouldn’t leave with another empty page. 

***

The weekend came and went with Lilith in the park again. She may or may not have left her apartment at a later time than before, making sure she was there around the same time as she saw the mystery woman leave. Lilith sat in her shaded spot, glancing at the bench occasionally, hoping to catch a glimpse of her again. The bench stayed empty all weekend, and so did her page.

That Monday, Lilith awoke, clammy and hot. The heat in her apartment was stifling. She rushed to open the balcony door and every window before checking her weather app. 

A heatwave. 

Fantastic. The official start of Fall was literally days away, but it seemed Summer wanted to go out with a bang. Lilith sighed as she plopped herself down on her couch. Temperatures close to 100 degrees could be expected for the next couple of days. The sun was barely out, but the day was already heating up. It wasn’t that Lilith couldn't deal with the occasional heat, but a part of her was disappointed. This type of weather made it near impossible for her to lounge around in the park all day without the fear of catching heatstroke. 

Lilith eyed her still empty sketchbook and the crumpled up page beside it from across the room. She had ripped out her stick figure drawing from before, disgusted with it. She was hoping that a new week would bring with it a new perspective, and perhaps, just perhaps, she could finally get something real down on paper. Not being able to go to the park provided a convenient excuse for her to procrastinate on any further attempts. It could wait, Lilith thought as she buried her head under a couch cushion. No one could be productive in this weather anyway.

Spending most of the day laying around like a nearly dead fish, left Lilith with pent up energy. By 6 pm, she was desperate to do something. Not sketching, no, something else. Something physical. So, after an icy shower, which proved fruitless as she started to sweat the moment she stepped out of it, she left her apartment with the idea of going for a quick walk. Clad in denim shorts, a black tank top, and some sneakers, Lilith left the safety of her apartment. She almost turned back around the moment she set foot outside. Even though some of the daytime heat had dissipated, the summer sun was still hovering in the sky, making Lilith feel like she stepped out into an oven. An uncomfortably humid oven. Lilith wondered if this is what Hell felt like, but nevertheless, she pushed her sunglasses up her nose and turned her cap backward on her head before she set off down the street. She had no destination in mind, deciding just to stroll around. Without noticing it, her legs carried her in the familiar direction of the park. 

The park was bustling with activity. Children were running around, some playing with frisbees, others throwing each other with water balloons, or just clambering around the playground under the watchful eyes of their parents who were taking cover from beneath the trees. The lake, too, Lilith noticed before she even came close to it, was crowded. A handful of dogs were happily doggie paddling around the water, having successfully eradicated the family of ducks from before. Said ducks were quaking unhappily as they waddled off in a line in the direction of the forest. 

As Lilith walked down the pathway, she spotted an ice cream tricycle, complete with a bright yellow umbrella to cast some shade on the chest freezer below it. A small line had formed, comprised mostly of kids anxiously waiting to get their hands on the cold treats. Motivated by the small towers of ice cream scoops she saw all the children walk away with, Lilith too fell into the line. Before long, she was settled in her usual spot under the tree with a double scoop of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream on a sugar cone. The ice cream was melting fast, and Lilith could barely keep up as it turned to liquid. Still, she tried to savor the taste as she rested her back against the tree trunk. Lilith felt surprisingly peaceful despite the hustle and bustle around her. Children laughing, dogs barking, water splashing and the occasional ring of the tricycle bell lulled Lilith into such a relaxed state that she didn't realize her ice cream was dripping down the length of the cone until it was too late. She felt the ice cream trickle down her wrist, and she quickly darted her tongue out to lick the substance of her skin. Looking off to her side as she angled her arm, she made eye contact with someone. Not just anyone. Her mystery woman. 

(Note to self, Lilith thought, not _her_ mystery woman. That just sounded creepy.)

The eye contact lasted only a second before _the_ mystery woman looked away. Her face was flushed, most likely from the sun, although the pinkness of her cheeks seemed to become more pronounced as the seconds passed. Lilith felt unable to look away, her eyes taking in the flushed skin of the woman’s neck and chest. She was wearing a white summer dress paired with her signature sunglasses. Her hair was done up in a bun that looked messy, but simultaneously meticulously put together. In her hand she held a round sun hat that she started to use as a fan, frantically waving it in the direction of her face.

How did Lilith not notice her before? She supposed she hadn't expected to see the woman in the park at such an hour, accustomed to spotting her in the early afternoon. A sudden coldness seeped through Lilith’s denim shorts, and she looked down to see that her forgotten ice cream had melted to such an extent that it trickled down her wrist and onto her shorts. A soft cuss later, that earned her a pointed look from a nearby woman, and a frantic couple of wipes with her serviette, Lilith looked up to find the bench empty, and the mystery woman was gone. 

Feeling more disappointed than what she deemed normal, Lilith got up and tossed her now soggy cone in the nearest bin before making her way back home.

***

The next three days brought no change to the weather, the scorching temperatures and stifling humidity carrying on until Friday. Despite the heat, Lilith embarked on three more evening strolls during the week, hoping to catch a glimpse of a certain redhead, but no such luck presented itself. 

Friday evening saw some much-needed relief in the form of rain. What started as a soft pitter-patter quickly turned out into a full-blown downpour. Children ran out into the streets, dancing in the warm rain, holding hands, and hopping around in circles. Lilith watched the impromptu raindance from the safety of her balcony, wholly intrigued and somewhat tempted to join in. 

Lilith attempted to sketch in the rainy days that followed. She really tried. She sat down outside her balcony door, just shy of where the rain hit the ground. It didn't work. She was easily distracted in her apartment, grabbing her phone or the nearest book from time to time. It didn’t help that her wrist started to hurt unexpectedly. It wasn’t enough to warrant Aspirin, but it was persistent. Lilith decided to ignore the pain, merely rubbing at her arm every so often and tracing the scar on the inside of her wrist. After a couple of hours of trying, she would give up and flop down on her couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels.

By the end of a full week of rain, Lilith was starting to feel cooped up. She had barely left the apartment, save for a run to the corner shop for bread and milk that left her soaked to the bone. Being indoors for so long made Lilith feel uncomfortable. It reminded her of a time not too long ago that she wasn’t allowed to leave her house. She shuddered as the memories of a tall figure looming over her as she lay on the floor flashed through her mind. The pain in her wrist spiked in protest at the memories. Perhaps he was right after all: Lilith was a poor excuse for an artist, and she would never be able to draw or paint again. He made sure of that.

***

The arrival of Fall came as a slight shock to Lilith. Being so caught up in her mind and spiraling down into the reminders of her past, she wasn't aware of the seasonal transition until she sat down in the park the following week. It was subtle, but the telltales signs were there. The air was crisper, the sweltering heat of the summer now a thing of the past. She marveled at the changing of the trees, noting how every day she sat down in the park the leaves would be a deeper hue of orange. The days turned progressively colder during the next two weeks, and Lilith soon realized that leaving her apartment in just a shirt wasn’t an option anymore. She noticed the change of wardrobe happened not only to her but to the entire town almost overnight. Soon, the people that Lilith started to recognize from the park were bundled up. The man with his black Labrador sported a hoodie and beanie on the afternoons he spent throwing a ball to the dog. (How he still wore shorts each time baffled Lilith a bit.) The elderly couple, that went on afternoon walks every day without fail, had matching scarfs and gloves that Lilith suspected were hand-knitted. When the children came to the park on weekends, they too were bundled up in jackets and beanies, but, much to their parents' frustration, they would demand to shed them once all the running around started to heat them up.

However, the best new wardrobe belonged to none other than the mystery woman. They hadn't made eye contact again since the ice cream incident, but Lilith took it upon herself to glance at her on the days she graced the park bench with her presence. She watched as the woman read yet another book or sometimes a newspaper. One afternoon she produced a cigarette from her coat and Lilith almost had a stroke. Such a terrible habit shouldn't look that good. Lilith spent the rest of that day more preoccupied than normal, wondering how the woman could make potential lung cancer look so damned _sexy_. 

But back to the outfit. Once again, Lilith had the urge to do a double-take the first afternoon that the woman strolled down the gravel path in a fur coat. Long, light brown, and with a dramatic faux fur collar, Lilith found herself entranced. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the woman unbuttoned the coat before producing her book from the inside pocket. She removed her leather gloves, brushed nonexistent dust from the bench, and took a seat, crossing her legs. Lilith couldn't help but rake her eyes over those stocking covered legs. 

Not for the first time, Lilith wondered what the women did for a living. Was she just a housewife? Being in the park as often as she was, meant she probably didn't have a 9 to 5 job. She didn't quite fit the stereotypical housewife box that Lilith had in mind. Perhaps a trophy wife, married to a wealthy businessman? Or was she a business owner herself? Contemplating whether the beautiful woman was married or not sent a strange pang through Lilith’s chest. She had never been close enough to the woman to inspect her left hand for any sign of union. Lilith glanced down at her own left hand, regarding the slight tan mark left behind by her engagement ring. After all these months, the faint line was still visible, although Lilith wondered if she imagined it. 

The next time she saw the mystery woman she sported yet another coat, this time a black one. It was a Saturday morning when Lilith entered the park. It was cold, the wind biting at her exposed cheeks, but it was a cold Lilith decided to endure as the rain was predicted for later in the day. For once, the woman was not seated in her usual spot; instead, she stood in front of the playground looking rather lost. One of her arms was slung around her middle while the other hovered across her chest, her hand close to her mouth as she smoked. She seemed to be watching the children on the playground with great care. Lilith decided to perch herself on a bench, seeing as the grass looked slightly wet due to the early morning mist. She walked past the bench the woman usually occupied, feeling it would be weird to take her seat, and opened her sketchbook. Over the last couple of days, she managed to start a rough outline of a sketch. She wasn't pleased with it, but she decided to keep going.

Every so often, a bubbling laugh echoed from the corner of the park. Lilith tried to resist the urge to look towards the playground, but eventually, curiosity got the better of her. Lilith counted three girls and one boy. She guessed they had to be about seven or eight years old. The three girls were running around the structure, ducking underneath the slide, climbing up the ladder before disappearing from view as they crossed a wobbly wooden bridge. Behind them, the boy chased them with his arms outstretched as he shouted: “I’m coming to get you!” 

Lilith smiled and directed her focus back to the outline of trees she was working on, but her mind wondered. Which one of those kids belonged to the mystery woman, Lilith wondered in between every stroke of her pencil. None of them really looked like her, and a second glance at the children confirmed it. All four of them were currently on the slide, forming a link as they tried to slide down at the same time. Lilith supposed that the child could more closely resemble the father, which would be a shame. It was hard to tell from the distance, but Lilith decided on the boy. His brown hair was the closest to the woman’s, after all.

***

By the end of October, Lilith had created two rough sketches and one a little more refined. She hated them. They were no good, had nothing special about them. A handful of rough trees meant nothing to her, and an empty body of water was honestly dull. Lilith tried to convince herself that it was progress that at least she was drawing again, but the mediocre pieces of art left her feeling even more uninspired. She haphazardly stuffed her sketchbook into a kitchen drawer one evening after another unsuccessful day. The voice in the back of her mind screamed that he was right. She had no talent, and there was no point in trying to convince herself otherwise. 

Lilith physically shook her head to banish the voice from her past, and before she knew it, she had grabbed her keys and donned her coat. Perhaps what she needed was a change of medium. Lilith half jogged down Greendale’s streets, hoping the craft store was still open after five o'clock on a Friday. The sudden urge to buy a canvas and some paint was almost overwhelming, so that's why when Lilith arrived slightly breathless in front of a dark and closed shop, she let out a frustrated sigh. She had no choice but to come back the next day. Realistically a couple of hours would make no difference, but Lilith needed to do something creative that didn't involve a _goddamn pencil_. 

In absolutely no mood to return to her cold and dreary apartment empty-handed, Lilith took it upon herself to walk past what had become her second home. She was surprised to hear excited voices coming from the park, and as she neared it, she could smell popcorn and cotton candy. What was going - oh, yes! The annual Halloween pumpkin carving challenge. Lilith had seen posters around town in the weeks leading up to Halloween, but the event had slipped her mind. Images of pink clouds of cotton candy filled her mind, and Lilith felt lured towards the festivities. 

Lilith barely recognized her beloved park. The townsfolk went all out with the decorations: Orange and purple pieces of fabric were tied around the tree trunks closest to the lake, and fake cobwebs were hanging from the branches. Hay bales were placed around the lake to create more seating, and pumpkins in various sizes were strewn around them. Other plastic decorations like hanging skeletons, tombstones, and scarecrows were scattered across the grass. A couple of food stalls were situated to the side of the lake selling cotton candy, popcorn, candy apples, and other sweet delights. 

The most surprising thing of all was the number of children amongst the adults. And the fact that each and every child was dressed up in a Halloween outfit. Dozens of little leprechauns, fairies, pirates, cowboys, and everything in between were running around their parents with their treat baskets in hand. Lilith was thoroughly confused. Shouldn’t the children be trick or treating? What were they all doing in the park? 

Before Lilith could wonder any further, something solid connected with her legs, forcing her to take a step backward to keep her balance. The first thing Lilith saw when she looked down was a massive black witch's hat. Upon closer inspection, she realized that there was, in fact, a little girl beneath it. She was obviously dressed up to be a witch, wearing a black dress and holding a broomstick in one hand. Her hat, however, was a tad too big for her as it slipped over her eyes.

“I’m sorry!” The young girl exclaimed as she took a step backward.

Lilith instinctively crouched down to get to eye level with the girl as she pushed the hat out of her eyes to look at Lilith. Lilith was surprised to recognize the girl. It was one of the girls that she had spotted in the park with the mystery woman. A voice called out before Lilith could react. 

“Sabrina!” 

Lilith looked up to see a woman with short blonde hair walk over to them. She, too, was wearing a dark dress that seemed to have spiders embroidered on them, and a pointy hat of her own was settled on her head.

“There you are!” She exclaimed, slightly out of breath when she came to a stop. “Don't you ever run off like that again, young lady.”

“I’m sorry, auntie, I saw Ross.” Sabrina pointed to a little girl dressed up as an Egyptian a few feet away. 

Lilith got back up and smiled at the little girl’s antics, watching her run to the other little girl and her family.

“I’m sorry about my niece. Sometimes she gets slightly over-excited. It’s her favorite day of the year, seeing that it’s her birthday too.”

“It’s no problem.”

“You’re relatively new in town, right?” The woman asked as she extended a hand to Lilith. “I’m Hilda. Hilda Spellman.”

“Lilith.” Lilith shook Hilda’s hand and smiled at her kindly. 

“It’s nice to meet you, love. I’m afraid I need to find my sister before she goes into a flat spin.” Hilda whispered her next words as if she was outing a well-kept secret. “She hates things like this.”

Lilith just nodded, not quite sure what to make of the woman. 

“I hope to see you participate in the pumpkin carving challenge,” Hilda continued angling her head to where tables were set up. “I hear the prize is unlimited hot chocolate for a week at Dr. Cerberus’s bookstore.”

Once again, Lilith nodded, although not particularly interested in dissecting a vegetable. She was only there for the candyfloss. 

Hilda clapped her hands together excitedly. “Perfect! You know what, my sister can wait a moment longer. Come with me and we’ll sign you up in a jiffy!”

Lilith’s eyes went wide and she tried to sputter some excuse and set the record straight. She did most definitely not want to carve a pumpkin! But Hilda wanted to hear none of it as she practically dragged Lilith over to a man dressed up as Dracula. He grinned with his plastic vampire teeth as he signed Lilith up for the event. 

Ten minutes later, Lilith found herself standing behind a table holding a massive pumpkin and an array of tools. The rules were simple. They had 45 minutes to carve a design of their choice into the pumpkin. The crowd would then decide on their favorite design, and that person would be crowned jack-o-lantern carver of the year. It seemed a little ridiculous that the whole town was so invested in pumpkins, but she supposed it was a small town thing. The vampire man hushed the crowd that had gathered to watch. He announced each contestant's name, and the crowd cheered. Lilith looked around at the other contestants. There were about ten of them, and they all seemed intently focused, which made Lilith panic slightly. She had no idea what design she wanted to carve. She had no time to ponder it further, as the vampire man counted down from five, signaling that their time had officially begun.

The contestants around her jumped into action as they started to cut their pumpkins open. She followed suit as her mind worked overtime to settle on a design that would be simple, but also striking. In the end, she settled on a massive looming tree surrounded by tombstones. She barely had a minute to spare before the allotted time ran out. She had to admit that her pumpkin looked pretty good, although she couldn’t say it was worth the fight. Stringy bits of pumpkin had somehow landed in her hair during the process, and Lilith tried to fish them out as the vampire man added a candle into each of the pumpkins. 

In the end, she didn't win, not that she really expected to, losing out to one Harvey Kinkle, who happened to be yet another child that Lilith recognized. He punched the air before accepting his coupon and running over to what Lilith assumed to be his family. The mystery woman wasn’t there to congratulate him, only a man and an older boy, which debunked Lilith’s theory that she was perhaps his mother. Lilith was awarded a 2nd prize, a coupon for one free beverage of her choice, which she accepted with a smile. All things considered, like the pumpkin guts in her hair, and the blisters on her hand from sawing the pumpkin with a blunt kitchen knife, she actually enjoyed herself. 

However, the highlight of the night came when Lilith least expected it. She was in the process of collecting her jack-o-lantern, which she was graciously allowed to keep when she saw her. The mystery woman was leaning against a tree trunk and looking straight at Lilith as she smoked. She seemed amused and shot Lilith a smile when they made eye contact, before stomping her cigarette out against the tree and disappearing into the night. Lilith couldn't keep the smile from her own face for the rest of the night. She smiled all the way home, even though the pumpkin was uncomfortable to carry and rather heavy. She smiled as she placed it on her balcony, and she even smiled later that night when she found more pumpkin guts in her hair. 

*** 

In the next couple of weeks, Lilith saw very little of the park, even less of the mystery woman. More often than not, it was raining or windy, and on the days that the skies were clear, the other woman wasn’t around. Lilith desperately tried to figure out what her schedule was, but it was impossible. It seemed sporadic at best, sometimes she wouldn't see her for three or four days, and then other times, she would be there two days in a row if the weather allowed it. Still, the only interaction Lilith had with her were the stolen glances she directed at the woman, and sometimes she could swear she felt the woman's gaze on her too.

Another thing that happened in the month of November was that Lilith did end up buying a second-hand easel at the craft store. It was a little wonky, but it worked great. She had it set up in front of her balcony door for the best sunlight. She spent a great deal of time just looking at the blank canvas. She had so hoped that a change in medium would do something, but alas, it seemed that it wasn’t the tools that were the problem, but the worker.

One night, after ripping yet another page from her sketchbook, Lilith decided that she needed air. The air from the balcony wouldn’t do. She needed _real,_ outside air. The sun had long set by the time Lilith wandered down the streets. The town was deserted, most people huddling in their homes for warmth. With winter looming, temperatures were beginning to drop, and the number of people Lilith saw when she observed the streets from her balcony became less and less. She understood why now, it was freezing. The cold cut through her coat and unsurprisingly caused her wrist to ache. Over the last few weeks, Lilith had made a connection between the weather and her wrist. If rain was on the way, her wrist would ache; if it was cold, her wrist would ache. Safe to say it was aching more often than not, but Lilith supposed that was the price you paid when someone fractured your wrist in three places.

Lost in thought, Lilith found herself outside Dr. Cerberus’s bookshop. It was pretty crowded with teenagers huddled up with their hot chocolates or coffees. Remembering her coupon form nearly a month ago, Lilith decided to nip in, hoping that a hot cup of something would warm her right up. Lilith scanned the menu above the counter as she fished the coupon from her wallet before deciding to play it safe and order a Mocha. 

She leaned against the counter as she waited for her takeaway beverage to be prepared. She was surprised that she recognized one of the staff members. It took her a moment, the preposterous wig throwing her off, but she realized it was Hilda the moment she opened her mouth to serve a nearby table. Her accent was unmistakable. She waved at the woman as she exited the shop, hot drink in hand.

It was no surprise that Lilith’s next stop would be the park. Despite the cold, she wanted to enjoy the outdoors a bit longer. The park was deserted when Lilith entered it. She slowly walked down the gravel path towards a bench. The world was almost eerily quiet, the only sounds that of the leaves as the wind ruffled the trees. Lilith’s steps faltered as she noticed something, or rather someone in the distance. She couldn't make out who it was, the distance, and the low lighting from a nearby lamp not doing much to help. She noticed something red moving, almost like an ember. Only then did she realize which bench it was. Could it be? What would the mystery woman be doing in the park at this hour?

Lilith’s legs started moving at their own accord again. She felt the urge to check if the woman was alright. She moved slowly to not startle the woman and made sure her shoes crunched in the gravel to give her fair warning that someone was approaching. It didn't work because as Lilith neared the bench, the woman's head jerked in her direction and her body tensed. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Lilith said as she stopped a few feet away from the bench.

The woman’s body relaxed slightly, and for a moment, it looked like she wiped at her cheeks. She cleared her throat before saying, “It’s okay. Serves me right for sitting here in the dark.”

She tried to keep her voice light, but Lilith immediately heard the sadness emanating from it. Her voice was scratchy, and it sounded like her nose was blocked. Had she been crying? Lilith knew that the woman probably wanted to be alone, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave her, knowing that something was wrong. Lilith took a hesitant step forward as the woman lit another cigarette.

“Would you like one?” She asked as she held out the packet towards Lilith.

The answer should've been no. Lilith hadn’t smoked since college, but somehow she found herself nodding as she took a seat next to the woman. Embarrassingly, Lilith coughed at the first inhale, but the woman made no remark. They sat in silence as they smoked, the only sound the soft sniffing of the woman as she wiped at her nose. Lilith took the opportunity to observe her. It was obvious now that she had been crying. In the light of the streetlamp, Lilith could make out smudged mascara under her slightly swollen eyes. Her nose was red from a combination of the cold and her constant wiping. 

Lilith looked down at the serviette that was wrapped around her coffee cup. It was stained where coffee had spilled down the side, but it was better than nothing. Lilith hesitantly held out the serviette towards the woman. She looked surprised, and for a moment, Lilith thought she would be rebuffed. The woman's eyes, which Lilith noticed, was a striking mixture of blue and green, softened before she accepted the serviette with a soft "thank you”.

Silence fell over them once more. Lilith racked her brain for something appropriate to say. Something that didn't involve the fact that she'd been covertly staring at her for the last three months. Lilith settled on, 

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, quite fine, thank you." came the stiff reply.

Lilith's face must have mirrored her doubt because the woman straightened her back before continuing.

"Let's just say it's not the best day of the year for my family."

She took one last drag of her cigarette before flicking the stub into a nearby bin. A shudder went through the woman.

"You're cold," Lilith supplied unhelpfully.

"I should be going," was the woman's only response.

Lilith got to her feet as the woman beside her rose, and for a moment, she thought she heard the faint clinging of glass objects colliding. The woman must've heard it too as she froze momentarily before sliding her hands into her coat pockets and turning to walk away. She turned and called over her shoulder.

"Thanks for the tissue." 

***

At 4:28 AM the next morning, Lilith awoke with a start. This was not unusual. From time to time, Lilith would be plagued by bad dreams featuring _him_. But not that morning. 

This time she saw luscious red locks and piercing green eyes. It was the face of her mystery woman—just her side profile, showcasing her nose, her jawline, her mole. There was nothing fearsome in the dream at all, but it had Lilith jump out of her bed quicker than any nightmare ever could. 

She was in her living room before she even knew it, flicking on a lamp and grabbing the first pencil she saw. Her sketchbook was still in the back of a kitchen drawer, so she went to the next best thing: the blank canvas in front of the balcony door. Lilith felt like she died and went to heaven when her hand finally did what her mind commanded it to. Within minutes she had a pencil outline done. Barely even stopping to consider her actions, she ripped her paintbrush out of their still sealed packaging and frantically started to unscrew a tube of paint with her teeth. There was no stopping her once the first brushstroke graced her canvas, and Lilith let herself be consumed in the feeling of curving soft lines and straight strokes. 

When Lilith finally stepped back from the canvas, the sun was rising, but she had never felt more refreshed in her life. There, before her was the gorgeous side profile of her mystery woman. It was proof. Proof that Lilith still had it. 

Lilith set out to the craft shop the very same day, buying more paint and smaller canvases. She might have purchased six different tubes of red and way more blues and greens that she needed, but she couldn’t stop herself. She caught sight of herself in the window of a shop as she lugged her supplies home. She looked like a woman possessed. Hair mused, dark circles under her eyes and arms laden with canvases and two bags worth of paint and brushes. 

Perhaps she was possessed. Possessed with the need to paint the mystery woman again. And again. Once Lilith started, she felt as if she couldn’t stop. It was like years of subdued art, and creativity was finally making itself known. She painted the woman again, in color this time, unlike the black and grey from the early morning hours. She spent ages trying to get her hair color right. She struggled to recall the exact shade from memory, but she tried and tried and tried. By the afternoon, she still hadn’t got it right. She flopped down on the couch to rest her eyes, taking comfort in the fact that she would see the woman again eventually. She’d pay more careful attention to the shade of her hair then.

As Lilith slipped into a much-needed nap, she realized that she still didn’t even know the woman’s name.

*** 

The weeks blended together with Lilith spending every possible day in the park. Her once useless sketchbook was filling up fast. Sketches of hair, hands, and cigarettes filled the pages. Very quickly, Lilith started to feel like a creep. She was watching the woman whenever she could, taking great note of her features. She had even moved closer, occupying her own bench next to the gravel path. It felt weird. Drawing the same person over and over and over. A person whose name she didn’t even know. A person who didn’t realize that they were the subject of every page and every canvas Lilith touched. It felt invasive, and Lilith felt as if she needed to obtain her permission somehow. 

Lilith tried to justify her actions. Even in college, her professor urged the students to sketch people in public. Random strangers they would never see again. Of course, this was different. This woman was a stranger, yes, but not random. Still, Lilith felt as if she couldn’t really blame herself. This woman was a gorgeous subject, and with every small sketch, Lilith wished that she could get to know her. The woman, for her part, seemed oblivious. She barely glanced in Lilith’s direction anymore.

By the start of December, Lilith began forcing herself to sketch other things on her days in the park. The evenings were still reserved for portraits of the woman, but she made a conscious effort to resist the urge to sketch her during the day. She tried her hand at the dogs that frequented the park. It was rather tricky as they never stood still for long. She opted for trees next, but it was mindless work. And then one day, out of nowhere, she spotted a Snowy Owl. It was perched on a branch at the edge of the forest. No one else seemed to have noticed it. Lilith quietly got up and moved towards it. She sketched the bird for two days straight. It didn’t seem to mind as it seemed to be coming back to a similar spot each time. 

On the third day, Lilith decided to do something spontaneous. She was going to paint the owl. Early on Saturday morning, she lugged her easel, a medium canvas, and a small bag of supplies all the way down to the park, only to find the owl was gone. Lilith let out a frustrated groan and was just about to start the journey back home when she heard the familiar laughter of a group of children. It seemed the mystery woman was back on chaperoning duty. It felt almost like Deja Vu. She was wearing the same black coat, standing in a similar manner puffing on a cigarette and watching the children as they tossed a football between each other. 

Lilith took that as a sign. 

She set up her easel, grateful that she didn’t have to move, seeing that the owl’s position was close to the playground, and started sketching. Lilith was able to capture the intricate detail of her face better than ever before in the soft glow of the morning. The smooth slope of her cheek, the edges of her jaw, the slight crease between her eyebrows as she admonished one of the children. 

Lilith took a step back to admire the sketch when she was done. It was undoubtedly her best sketch to date, and she couldn’t wait to start the real fun. The possibility of finally mixing the exact shade of the woman’s hair was exhilarating. Lilith was just about to grab a brush and her palette when her easel came tumbling down. It happened so fast Lilith barely had a moment to process it. Her canvas landed face down on the floor, and the culprit, a wayward football, came to a stop nearby.

“I’m so sorry!” 

The little blonde girl was running towards Lilith with red cheeks and wide eyes.

“I’m so, so sorry, miss! It was my fault I-I wanted to see how far I could throw it and- and…” The girl stuttered and seemed near to tears. “I’m sorry,” she echoed. 

Lilith sunk to her knees and noticed that a leg of her easel had broken off cleanly. Still, she couldn’t find it in her heart to be mad at the little girl. She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before saying, “Hey, it’s okay. It was old anyway.”

“What did I tell you about throwing that ball, Sabrina?” A furious voice husked out, and Lilith could practically see the Sabrina shrink.

“I’m sorry, auntie.” Her lip started to quiver as she spoke.

Lilith looked up to find the mystery woman right next to her. She hadn’t noticed her walk over. She rose before she addressed the woman. “It’s not the end of the world, really.” 

“I broke your easel and your painting!” The girl wailed as she walked over to where the painting was still lying face down. 

Lilith practically ran towards it before picking it up and holding it to her chest. She couldn’t let the woman see what she had sketched. “It’s okay. I hadn’t started yet.”

“I apologize for this,” The woman said sincerely. 

“It’s really nothing.”

They looked at each other for a long moment until Sabrina piped up again.

“Can we go home now, auntie?”

Lilith tried her best to duct tape her easel back to health, but it was no use. She threw the pieces of wood on her balcony and balanced the thankfully unharmed canvas against a pot plant on her coffee table. 

***

The next day Lilith was back in the park. Her sketchbook lay open on her lap, but she made no attempt to sketch. It was an unusually cold day, and the pain in her wrist was making itself known. Lilith closed her eyes, soaking up the late autumn sun as she rubbed at her wrist. That’s why when she heard a voice much closer than expected, she jolted in her seat.

“Miss?”

It was Sabrina again, and she seemed to be carrying a box of some kind.

“My aunt sends this.” The box was unceremoniously thrust into Lilith’s lap. “Sorry again for yesterday!” 

The girl took off running, and Lilith’s eyes followed her until she came to a stop next to the woman. Their eyes met, and the woman nodded at Lilith before taking Sabrina’s hand and turning around to walk away. 

It turned out the box contained a state of the art easel. It was made out of lightweight but sturdy aluminum. It could fold up to a relatively small size and even came with a handy black carry bag. However, the best part was the note that Lilith found taped on the side of the box. 

_I would like to apologize once again for my niece’s clumsiness yesterday. I do hope this will serve as an adequate replacement._

_Z_

***

Lilith had meant to thank the woman the very next time she saw her. Determined to actually strike a conversation with her, Lilith waited on her bench. Four days had gone by, and there was still no sign of her. It wasn’t unusual, given the woman’s interesting schedule. Lilith waited contently, sketching intermittently as she thought of what she would say to her. _“Hey, thanks for this extremely expensive easel. Could I repay you by taking you out to dinner?”_ That was probably a bit forward, but it beat _“Hey, I paint you on that expensive easel every night. Wanna come over for dinner and see?”_

Four days quickly turned into a week, and Lilith started to become a little uneasy. There had never been this long of a gap unless the weather had something to do with it. The current weather was pleasant except for the bite of cold that could only mean impending snow. Lilith had taken to buying arm warmers for her stubborn wrist for during the day, and a heating pad for the nighttimes. Spending most of the day out in the cold left her with terrible aches during the night, but Lilith didn’t let up, adamant to speak to the woman.

Two weeks into December, the first snow started to fall, but there was still no sign of the woman. Lilith was sitting on a bench, doodling the elderly couple on the bench opposite her when she noticed the first snowflakes fall. The stubborn piece of ice landed right in the middle of her sketchbook, soaking a tiny piece of the paper. All around her, there were gasps of delight and children screaming. 

The snow fell heavily the next couple of days, successfully freezing Lilith’s plan of seeing the woman. When she entered the park after a couple of days, it had turned into a winter wonderland. Children were playing in the snow, building snowmen, and creating snow angels. A couple of children pushed each other around on little sleds. Lilith’s eyes scanned the children in the hopes of seeing Sabrina. Perhaps the girl could shed some light on her aunt’s sudden disappearance.

Neither the girl nor her aunt could be spotted.

Before Lilith knew it, it was Christmas eve. Despite the twinkling lights that had been hung all around town, the Santa Claus at the mall, and the group of carollers Lilith had seen, the day had still managed to sneak up on her. She supposed it was understandable, seeing that she had no one to buy presents for or no one to spend the day with. She spent half the day wallowing in self-pity and the other half finishing the portrait that she had started all those weeks ago in the park. She had been taking her time with it, painting only a little bit at a time, wanting it to be perfect. And it was. She signed it with a flourish and suppressed the urge to cry. She had finally finished something that she was proud of. God, it felt good. 

It felt less good to be alone as the clock raced towards Christmas day. By 10 PM Lilith had skipped through all the TV channels multiple times. She couldn’t stand another Hallmark movie. With the TV off, she could hear her neighbors celebrating. It was both too quiet and too loud. 

So she went to the only place that she knew. The park. It was deserted much like the night she shared a cigarette with the woman. The only difference was the soft flutterings of snow which successfully muted out any outside sounds, except one: A booming “hoo hoo” could be heard in the distance. The snowy owl was back, watching Lilith from the edge of the woods. As Lilith neared it, it cocked its head to the side and gave her a knowing look.

Lilith sighed before addressing the bird. 

“Looks like we’re both spending Christmas alone, huh?”

The owl ruffled its feathers before hooting in response. Lilith and the owl stood in comfortable silence for a while. Eventually, the owl turned its head as if it was listening out for something, before opening its wings and taking off, leaving Lilith alone. 


	2. Zelda

For Zelda, Greendale Park held a special place in her heart. Ever since she was a child, the park would be a sort of refuge for her and the rest of the Spellman siblings. Their upbringing left them wanting. Sure, they were lucky. They had a roof over their heads and food on the table each night, but love and affection wasn’t something that would be freely given in the Spellman household. The park served as a distraction, a place away from the mortuary that always carried the lingering smell of death and decayー or the chemicals that were supposed to prevent the smell of it. 

Their father was always too busy to take them to the park, tremendously overworked from running the home mortuary while still trying to juggle a nine-to-five job in town. Their mother had a temper, so much so that nearly anything could set her off. Asking her to take them to the park was out of the questionー a harsh lesson that Edward learned early on when he received a slap across the face when he kept questioning why his mother refused them. But that didn’t stop them from actually going.

Whenever the opportunity presented itself, they spent time in the park. At first, Edward would lead his two younger sisters on a detour past it on their long walk home from school. There they would spend time on the newly erected swings and roundabout that had been set up the summer before. Hilda was still too small to properly take part at that point, her plump legs hanging far off the swings. By the time Hilda’s feet touched the ground, their younger brother Andrew had started school, but he was much less inclined to sit on the sideline and watch his elder siblings play. He demanded to prove his worth on the monkey bars on his very first day. This resulted in a sprained wrist for him and a series of hidings for the rest of them.

On the odd weekend where Zelda and Edward were allowed out of the house to visit friends, they still gravitated towards the park, enjoying the freedom of running around with their peers without having to constantly watch over their younger siblings. By the time Zelda and Edward reached high school, the park was totally revamped. The trees had been thinned out significantly and a man-made lake, as well as a statue, had been constructed. Imagine Zelda’s surprise when she and her group of girlfriends were skinny-dipping in the lake one night after dark, only to run into Edward and his group of friends on the way out from where they were vandalizing the statue with a can of spray paint.

In her senior year, Zelda took up smoking in the park. Earlier that day, her mother voiced her opinion on a single woman who lived on the edge of town. She’d been living there for as long as Zelda could remember. She was pretty, and always friendly, but not a single male suitor was in sight. Rumor had it that she was different. A dyke, her mother had spat out over dinner. Zelda herself was just coming to terms with the fact that she found a girl in her year attractive. She didn’t know what it meant. She liked boys too. Could she like Shirley Jackson in the same way as she liked the boys from the football team?

It didn’t matter. The topic was forbidden when Zelda questioned why the woman on the edge of town was seen as an abomination. “If she were my daughter, I’d disown her,” her mother had said.

Zelda snuck out that night, with blood pounding in her veins, her mind racing, and her eyes burning with tears of rage. Joe Putnam along with a group of his football player friends were lounging against a tree trunk when Zelda entered the park. She spotted a small glowing sphere being passed between Joe and his brother Jesse, and that’s when Zelda decided she was going to start smoking. Her mother hated the habit, despised it with a passion. It was the perfect way to spite her, and before Zelda knew it she was walking up to the boys and taking the cigarette out of Joe’s hands, winking as his mouth fell open.

Her confidence didn’t last long as she sputtered and coughed after the first inhale. The group laughed, but Joe just smiled as he took the cigarette back before producing a packet and lighting one for Zelda. 

On spring breaks away from college, Edward and Zelda would spend their evenings on quilted blankets, catching up with their friends and getting drunk on cheap liquor under the stars. On one occasion, Zeldaー who was sick and tired of budget vodkaー decided to swipe a bottle of her father’s prized whiskey. That night, Hilda tagged along and before they knew it she was near blackout drunk on a mixture of whiskey and wine, vomiting all over the porch steps. In their drunken stupor, and with the family dog trying to lick up the contents of Hilda’s stomach from the steps, they created such a racket that their mother descended the stairs in a mad haze, threatening to take away Zelda’s car and forbidding Edward from seeing his new girlfriend Diana, for the rest of the summer. 

The time spent in the park became few and far between once they graduated. Edward, being the first one to get his degree, moved to Riverdale permanently to work at a law firm. The summer of Zelda’s last year at university was still spent in the park, snogging classmate Faustus Blackwood behind the cover of trees. Edward and Hilda didn’t approve of this budding relationship, and neither did their father. Andrew was as never minded as he always was, encouraging Zelda to do what made her happy. The summer fling was just thatー a fling, and despite her earlier disapproval, Hilda was still the one who rocked Zelda until her tears subsided on the day Faustus left her for a freshman. 

Zelda didn’t see the park for three years after she graduated. Three long invigorating years were spent overseas, backpacking through Europe with a group of friends, or as her mother called it, wasting her life and degree. Zelda couldn’t care less what her mother thought and had no intention of returning to the confines of Greendale anytime soon. Sure, she missed her siblings, missed their elderly beagle dog, and even occasionally thought about her father, but she didn’t miss the stifling air of her small town.

And then one day her family started to drop like flies, starting with the death of Andrew while he was spending the spring in England. She didn’t even know he’d gone abroad, but suddenly she received a call from her father breaking the news to her. She booked the first flight home, crying the entire flight long.

For a time their family was trapped in a dark cloud, and Zelda was convinced they were cursed. Not even two years after Andrew’s death, their parents died within months of each other, and soon it was just her, Edward and Hilda sitting on a park bench, numbly passing around a bottle of wine in the dead of winter after they buried their father. 

And then Edward died.

Zelda stopped coming to the park altogether.

Without Edward, her partner in crime, her confidant, the park could just as well have been a cemetery. She refused to go near it, opting to take unnecessary detours when she drove around town. It hurt to see their bench empty. It hurt to see the red droplets of spray paint that still stained the concrete around the statue he had once vandalized. It hurt to see the spot that Edward showed her the ring he was going to propose to Diana with. It hurt. 

Only twice a year would Hilda and she enter the park: First on the anniversary of Andrew’s death in March, and then on the anniversary of Edward and Diana’s death in November. There, she and Hilda would trade that same brand of cheap vodka that they drank in their youth between each other, silently taking their fill before emptying the remains of the bottle along the gravel path as they stumbled back home.

Zelda stopped coming to the park altogether.

Until one day when five-year-old Sabrina asked to go there. She had joined a pre-school group a week prior and befriended a young girl named Rosalind. The girl had invited Sabrina to the park that coming weekend. Zelda’s first instinct was to say no, and so she did. She denied Sabrina without any explanation, causing the child’s eyes to water and her bottom lip to jut out. Still, Zelda refused and watched as her niece stalked away in a typical five-year-old tantrum style.

It wasn’t until later that night, after a hushed conversation with Hilda, that Zelda changed her mind. As painful as they were, the park held mostly good memories. Memories with her family, her friends. Who was Zelda to stop Sabrina from creating her own memories there? Who was she to deny the child the opportunity to walk the same gravel road, and swing on the same swings as her father did years ago?

So Zelda allowed it. Even escorted Sabrina with Hilda at her side. At first, she stood next to the playground, her back ramrod straight as she refused to look anywhere but at Sabrina. Eventually, she relaxed. It was almost as if she could feel her brothers’ presence in the whispering wind, see their reflection in the lake, hear their laughter fluttering through the leaves.

She felt so comforted by the park that even after Sabrina started elementary school and Hilda started working full time at Dr. Cee’s, Zelda still took a couple of hours away from her home office to spend time in the park. 

The modernized park she found herself in most afternoons seemed almost alien to her, a far stretch away from the extended piece of forest that it once was. Still, the atmosphere remained the same. The townsfolk remained a constant. She could identify every person who set foot in the park by name. The elderly couple, Jonah and Ruth, would walk their Jack Russell, Spotty, three times a day at almost the exact same time. The mayor’s son would play catch with his Labrador each day too, although his schedule varied. The children at the edge of the lake looked exactly like their father, William, the same man that Zelda took to prom.

Everyone knew everyone in small-town Greendale. 

On one particular Saturday afternoon, someone unknown entered the park. A woman with long raven locks and equally dark shades. This was not unusual. Greendale had its fair share of tourists, most of them just stopping to stretch their legs as they passed throughー their real destination, the neighboring towns like Riverdale. This woman caught Zelda’s eye for a split second, and in that second she decided the stranger had to be a passer-through. Zelda judged her to be from the city, her tight jeans and impractical shoes giving her away. It would seem that the woman had never set foot in a park before. The way she tilted her head up to the sky, the way she took deep, almost exaggerated breaths... From afar it seemed as if she was admiring nature and enjoying the unpolluted air, but as she turned around and decidedly strode out of the park, it seemed as if she didn’t enjoy it after all.

***

The woman was not a passer through-er. Or perhaps she was and merely decided to spend the week in one of the quaint bed-and-breakfast establishments that Greendale had to offer. It seemed a far stretch, as most tourists barely spent the night. There was not much to do after all. But this woman must have found something to tickle her fancy. Why else would she be sitting cross-legged in the middle of the grass three days after Zelda first spotted her?

The woman had shed her jeans and boots from before, now sporting more practical cargo pants and a t-shirt. As Zelda settled down on her bench of choice, the one directly under a large oak tree for optimal shade, she couldn’t help but wonder how long the woman had been sitting all alone and staring at the forest. She seemed lost in thought, and Zelda couldn’t help but wonder if she was waiting for someone.

Zelda decided that it was none of her business as she opened her book, resuming at the place she left off. She easily became immersed in the fictional world again, and an hour slipped by before she contemplated to pause for a cigarette. Before she could close her book, movement caught her eye. The strange woman no longer looked calm, but rather frustrated. She was groping at something in her lap, a book, Zelda realized and slammed it closed with force. How odd. The woman rose to her feet and Zelda quickly averted her gaze back to the pages of her novel. Zelda watched carefully out of the corner of her eyes as the woman stood frozen. Perplexed, Zelda lifted her head a fraction of an inch, curious as to what caught the woman’s attention. Before she could hazard any guesses, the woman reached to pick something off the ground, and then she was gone. 

***

The next time Zelda spotted the woman, her skin seemed to be darker than before. Zelda huffed internally as she took her seat, irritated that instead of her skin turning a bright pink that would fade into disgusting peeling, (like Zelda’s would if she dared to venture out for too long without sunscreen) the woman was able to withstand who knows how many hours in the sun and walk away with nothing but a slight tan. Then again, Zelda thought as she observed the slight pinkness of her cheeks as she crawled deeper in the receding shade of the tree, perhaps she had become acquainted with Greendale’s sun. She seemed better equipped at least, sporting a hat and a bottle of water from which she greedily gulped before tossing the empty plastic on the grass beside her. By the time Zelda finished a handful of chapters, the woman had yet to move again. She seemed just as focused as the time before, sitting with her legs crossed and her hands in her lap, barely moving an inch. Zelda idly wondered if the woman was meditating. 

Zelda took advantage of the woman’s state of... well, whatever it was, and from behind the cover of her sunglasses she took the time to really observe her. Besides the miles of tan skin that was on display, Zelda wasn’t able to notice much else. The woman's dark hair was tied up in a low ponytail that was flowing out from beneath her cap. Even though the woman herself seemed short, her legs gave the impression of being long as she changed position and stretched them out before her. What Zelda really wanted to see more of was that face. Upon her brief-second-long judgment that she had passed days before, Zelda’s eyes fell upon her sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones. Now she couldn't help but wish that she had spent more time observing those features and almost wished the woman would move closer to her.

Almost as if one or another deity was answering her prayers, the woman shifted on the grass, once again engaging in her semi crawl, this time inching even closer to Zelda’s bench of choice. Unexplained fear shot through Zelda, the fear that the woman might somehow know that Zelda was looking at her. Without thinking twice, Zelda closed her book, rose from her seat, and exited the park.

***

Every so often Greendale was lucky enough to be struck by a heatwave. Only that type of blistering heat could have Zelda swap her tight fitted, dark-colored dresses out for something a bit more summer-yー in this case, a white lace dress. The dress did little to cool her down. The Spellman house was as dated as it was lovely, and its three inhabitants had to make do with no air conditioning. Instead, Zelda was at the mercy of her flimsy desk fan that did a mediocre job of keeping her cool.

Zelda almost felt a twinge of jealousy as Sabrina ran around the house in her little mermaid themed swimming costume, waiting for the allocated time that Hilda would drop her off at Rosalind’s house. 

“Rosalind’s pool is massive!” Sabrina exclaimed as Zelda gave her a thorough rubdown with sunscreen just before they were supposed to leave. “And they have a unicorn floatie!”

When Zelda was a child, none of her friends had pools in their backyards, but when she and Edward were teens, they discovered the joy of Sweetwater River. It was some of the only times that the park would come second best. Who could resist hiking down to the riverbank with a picnic basket and a portable radio to spend the day in the rapids, or crossing said rapids to make out with one Alice Cooper in the backseat of someone's car? 

Sadly, there would be no making out with anyone from the neighboring town, nevermind her own, and swimming was simply out of the question. Zelda opted to live vicariously through her niece, assured that Sabrina would have her own pool party stories to tell later that evening when Zelda left to collect her.

Late that afternoon Zelda decided to leave for town earlier than necessary, the stifling heat of the day now trapped inside the house was suffocating her. Instead, she headed for Doctor Cee’s. She figured that she could sip on some lemonade and wait out the remainder of her sister’s shift there before leaving to pick up Sabrina together. However, when she neared the quaint bookshop-turned-restaurant, Zelda realized that wasn’t an option. The place was packed with townsfolk who were looking for shelter from the heat, sipping on tall glasses of lemonade or milkshakes. Dejectedly, Zelda headed down the road towards the park. She had no desire to sit in her car for an hour, and there was no point to go all the way home.

The park was no less full than the Doctor Cee’s, but at least her bench was open. She nodded politely at Mrs. Kemper as she sank down next to her. Mrs. Kemper was a quiet woman, so they got along well, understanding that neither of them desired any unnecessary small talk to fill the silence. Eventually, Mrs. Kemper’s husband and son appeared, and they bid their goodbyes, leaving Zelda alone with her thoughts. Zelda used her sunhat to try to create an artificial breeze as her eyes glided over the park, watching the inhabitants. And that’s when she saw her. The stranger.

The woman was sitting under her usual tree, one leg resting straight before her, the other pulled up at the knee as she rested her back against the tree trunk. In her hand was an ice cream cone, one that seemed to be rapidly melting if the way she was attacking it with her tongue was anything to go by. Zelda averted her eyes and landed back on the woman’s legs. There was so much skin on display, her short denim shorts leaving little to the imagination. Zelda’s eyes traced the toned outline of her calf up to her thighー Zelda looked away before it became too much. 

And then Zelda promptly choked on hot air.

The woman was licking her wrist, her tongue darting out as she licked up some ice cream that escaped from her cone. Zelda could practically imagine her swirling her tongue in a circle, lapping up the sticky substance andー

The woman looked up, their eyes meeting for the briefest of seconds before Zelda snapped her gaze forward so fast that her neck hurt. The heat that was creeping up her chest, across her cheeks, over her ears, and down her spine had nothing to do with the heatwave. Zelda furiously fanned herself with her sunhat, hoping the pronounced pinkness of her cheeks could be played off as a symptom of heat exhaustion. She wanted to chance another look over at the woman, but thought better of it, already embarrassed about being caught staring once. So instead, Zelda rose from her bench and hurried out of the park, suddenly content to wait the rest of her time out in her blistering hot car. 

***

Sabrina had burned. Terribly so. Her fair skin and light hair made her an easy target of the sun, something that Zelda had extensive firsthand experience with. They had warned her, Zelda and Hilda alike, and the girl promised high and low that she would reapply sunscreen regularly. She didn’t.

Being the dramatic seven-year-old that she was, Sabrina claimed the burn was so terrible that she wouldn’t be able to go to school. Hilda relented, thrusting aloe vera into Zelda’s hands the next morning as she left for work, instructing Sabrina to stay indoors. Having to care for Sabrina turned out to be a convenient excuse for Zelda to stay put. Feeling absolutely mortified about her behavior the day before, she had no intention of setting foot into the park anytime soon. At least until the heatwave was over, she bargained with herself. The heat was clearly driving her to madness and producing inappropriate thoughts about a complete stranger’s tongue.

The rest of the week was spent inside the house, wearing as little clothes as acceptable and lounging in front of her tiny desk fan that she had carried to the parlor for her and Sabrina to use. Hilda, bless her soul, had made a massive batch of lemonade, and the two of them basically lived off of glasses of the liquid while Hilda was at work. 

But, after an entire week of sweltering heat and a demanding and dramatic little girl, Zelda could almost cry of relief when the first drops of rain descended from the sky. When she noticed the first pitter-patter on the kitchen window, Zelda excused herself to stand on the front porch. Protected under the roof, she lit a cigarette and savored the electric feeling in the air and the sounds of the sizable drops landing on the steps. Despite the still humid air, goosebumps erupted all over Zelda’s arms when thunder rumbled overhead. 

***

The crunch of leaves under Zelda’s heels was pleasing to her ears as she crossed the park to her favorite bench one morning, midway through October. Fall was in full swing, and Zelda was delighted when the air was brisk enough that morning for her to pull one of her favorite coats out of the closet. The thick faux fur that lined the collar always made her feel regal, and this day was no different. She liked that it was over the top, liked that after all the years that she'd owned the coat, it still turned heads each year when it was time to pull it on.

This year was no exception. When she paused in front of the bench to slip her gloves off, she suddenly had the distinct feeling that she was being observed. She took her time to brush an errant leaf from her seat, before making a show of crossing her legs more leisurely than required. She flipped through her book, removing the bookmark that Sabrina had made for her out of craft paper in her first year of school, and slowly looked up as inconspicuously as possible.

Sure enough, the stranger was under the tree to Zelda’s right, as she had been for weeks. Her body was slightly angled towards Zelda and even though she wasn’t looking her way, Zelda had a feeling that she had been.

From that day forward, Zelda decided to run a little experiment. She started with glancing up now and then, curious to see if she was actually being observed, or whether she was imagining things (she wasn’t). She wore her highest heels, the ones she knew made her calves look great even through her stockings, and continued to wear her most dazzling dress and coat combos to the park, ignoring the fact that she was painfully overdressed.

Even though Zelda always prided herself on looking respectable, Hilda had noticed this slight change. One afternoon, as Zelda was reapplying her lipstick in the reflection of the liquor cabinet as she got ready to leave, Hilda voiced her curiosity.

“Are you seeing someone, Zelds?” she asked with a forced nonchalance and innocence. “Is that where you’ve been going every couple of days?”

Zelda shot her down instantly, slightly irritated at her sister for suggesting such a possibility. 

The most fruitful of Zelda’s experiments came one day when she mindlessly fiddled in the inside pocket of her coat for a cigarette. She didn’t smoke in the park as often as she did in her youth, saving her dirty habit for the inside of her home. The way the wind would stoke the little ember, causing a third of her cigarette to be wasted, wasn’t something she enjoyed. But today she absentmindedly reached for the nicotine as she powered through an emotional chapter of a romance novel that she had nipped from Hilda’s room the previous week. She lifted her gaze from the pages as she lit the cigarette and saw the slightest of movements out of the corner of her eye. The stranger's spine was held straight, and for a moment Zelda thought she could see her shoulders rise and fall at a slightly increased pace.

Interesting. Zelda indulged herself in the odd smoke more from that day on taking special care to see if the woman ever noticed. 

***

The 31st of October started just as it had for the last couple of yearsー with a cake. Hilda had baked late into the night, waiting for Sabrina to fall asleep before she busied herself. When Sabrina dragged her still sleepy body down the stairs and into the kitchen, the cake was waiting for her on the breakfast table, complete with eight red candles. She smiled her sleepy smile as Hilda pulled her into a hug and whispered happy birthday into her disheveled hair. Zelda too placed a kiss on her niece’s cheek before lighting the candles and joining Hilda in singing happy birthday. 

As Sabrina dug into a large piece of the cake for a special birthday breakfast, Zelda noticed her sister dab the corner of her eye with her cardigan. Sabrina’s birthday was always an emotional affair. It reminded the sisters of what they lost, while simultaneously reminding them how lucky they were to have her in their life. 

Zelda would never forget the call she received from Edward at a quarter past twelve exactly eight years ago. She remembered the unbridled excitement and fear that tinged his voice as he informed her that Diana had gone into labor. Less than eight hours later, Zelda held a perfect baby girl in her arms with Edward beaming beside her as Diana smiled tiredly.

It still hurt to know that neither Diana nor Edward ever got to experience Sabrina’s birthday.

It honestly was a blessing that Sabrina was born on Halloween. It served as a fantastic distraction to the heartache that the Spellman sisters carried with them. There were costumes to consider, Halloween snacks, and Sabrina’s favorite: the annual Halloween carving contest in the park.

Zelda liked to pretend that the event bored her, liked to pretend that she’d rather snuggle up in front of the fire and nibble on Hilda’s pastries, but in truth she enjoyed it. She was secretly pleased when Sabrina thrust a half-eaten stick of cotton candy into her hands, claiming that she was full. Zelda happily munched on the sweet substance as she watched Sabrina bound off her in adorable witches costume together with Hilda as they set out in search of Sabrina's friends. 

The pumpkin carving contest was the last place that Zelda expected to see the stranger, but yet there she was. Zelda spotted her as she walked across the grass, looking utterly perplexed as she took in all the stalls and decorations. She seemed to gravitate towards the candy apple stalls when she abruptly stopped before taking a step back and then crouching down. Even though there were a handful of witches running around, Zelda recognized the specific witch’s hat that collided with the woman. The hat had belonged to Zelda once upon a time, and although it was still a bit too large for her, Sabrina had demanded to wear it this year. 

Zelda watched with curiosity as the woman interacted with Sabrina for a second before Hilda came up to them. Hilda shook her hand and a surge of excitement went through Zelda. If she could manage to inconspicuously mention that she saw their interaction, she could learn the woman’s name from Hilda. And then suddenly the woman was following her sister with furrowed brows, disappearing behind one of the stalls.

Zelda tried to ignore the slight disappointment she felt when she was unable to spot the woman for the next couple of minutes. Figuring that she must have gotten her candy apple and left, Zelda planted herself in front of a tree and readied herself for the contest. Sabrina and her group of friends were right in front of the crowd alongside Rosalind’s family.

As the contestants took their places at their stations, Zelda’s heart did an irritating little lurch. There she was. Dr. Dracula hushed the crowd and introduced each contestant. 

“And last but not least,” he said in a booming voice, “Lilith!”

_Lilith_ , Zelda echoed internally as the crowd applauded around her. It wasn’t a very common name, but Zelda decided it fit her perfectly.

For the better part of the next hour, Zelda watched as the womanー no, Lilithー carved her pumpkin with great focus. She smiled as she watched Lilith unknowingly smear pumpkin guts into her hair as she attempted to wipe the sweat off her brow. As the allotted time started to run out, Zelda suddenly found herself emphatically nervous. Lilith was crouching down at the wooden table as she frantically carved some detail onto her pumpkin, her head lifting up every so often to check the progress of her opponents. With seconds to spare, Lilith threw her carving knife onto the table and stood. She regarded her pumpkin with a smile and ran a hand through her hair, likely soiling it with even more pumpkin bits. She seemed to notice her mistake immediately as she subtly tried to comb through her hair as they waited for the crowd to decide on the winner. She was missing an obviously large piece of pumpkin on the side of her head, and Zelda suddenly longed to run her own fingers through the locks until she could eradicate every last piece of the vegetable. 

A part of Zelda hoped Lilith would win, but it was no surprise when Harvey took first place once more. As the excitement died down, Zelda still stood rooted on the spot, watching as the woman struggled to get a grip on her large pumpkin. Zelda’s lips curled into a smirk as the pumpkin slipped out of her arms and landed back on the table with a thud. The woman let out an exasperated sigh and looked up, likely looking for someone to assist her. Instead, she locked eyes with Zelda immediately, and all traces of frustration disappeared from her features. Instead of looking away, or feeling embarrassed that she had been caught staring, Zelda politely smiled at Lilith before leaving in the direction of Hilda and Sabrina.

***

In the weeks following Sabrina’s birthday, Zelda could barely catch a break. It started when a deadline at work was pushed forward, causing Zelda to be hunched over her laptop for days, sometimes long into the night as she furiously worked to translate a piece of academic work into English. When that was finally completed, Zelda was lulled into a false sense of security for a few days. On those days she’d visit the park, hoping for stolen glances from Lilith.

It felt weird to address the woman by her first name, even if it was only in her thoughts. It seemed almost wrong to do so, seeing as the woman probably didn't know that Zelda knew. Even so, Zelda did, and at the same time she started spending less time reading in the park, and more time thinking. 

She wondered if Lilith managed to get her pumpkin home in one piece and wondered where she decided to put it. Did she have a porch or a balcony of sorts? What did her home look like? Why exactly did she choose Greendale to be her home for however long? Did she have someone to go home to? These questions plagued Zelda as she glanced at the woman from behind her shades.

Wondering and thinking quickly became a thing of the past when the flu swept through the Spellman household, starting with Sabrina. Zelda and Hilda nursed her back to health with Hilda’s homemade cough remedy and lots of rest, but it wasn’t long until Hilda and eventually, Zelda herself was flattened by the illness. Zelda hated being sick, and Hilda often became frustrated with her as she switched between pretending that she was perfectly fine, to acting as if she was near to death as she wallowed in between a sea of tissues. 

In hindsight, Zelda was thankful for her increased workload and the flu that followed. It did a marvelous job of distracting her from a date that was looming upon her calendar. The anniversary of Edward and Diana’s death. 

Every year on the anniversary of the accident that took their lives, and very nearly Sabrina’s too, Hilda and Zelda would enter the park after nightfall, once they were sure that it wouldn't be occupied by the townsfolk any longer. They would reserve the cheapest bottle of vodka that money could buy, wrap it in a paper bag and drink it straight. Every year without failー except this year.

This year, Zelda found herself sitting alone on her bench, drowning her sorrows under the faint moonlight. Hilda was working. It was the first time in eight years that Hilda decided that something else was more important than their yearly tradition. And of course, Zelda understood the responsibilities of working, but she was certain that Doctor Dracula had a crush on her sister, and that all it would take was for Hilda to ask for her shift to be swapped around. But she didn’t.

Hilda was moving on. It had been nearly a decade, after all. But still, Zelda felt it would be a disgrace to her brother’s memory if she just didn’t show up. So she went alone. With Hilda refusing to join, Zelda indulged herself in purchasing her favorite brand of whiskey, opting for a couple of small bottles that one could expect on a plane.

Two mini bottles in Zelda felt the first hint of tears stinging in her eyes. By the third, tears were streaming down her face, hot and fast. Her mind conjured up memories she had long since locked away. A memory of an officer knocking on the mortuary’s door in the dead of night with a somber face. The memory of a funeral with two empty coffins. The memory of signing documents officially declaring her one of Sabrina’s legal guardians.

By the time Zelda had finished her fourth and final little bottle of whiskey, she regretted not buying more. She stuffed the empty bottles in her coat pockets, dried her tears as best she could, and lit up a cigarette. 

A sudden crunching sound near Zelda caused her to jump, her head jerking up, and her heartbeat accelerating dangerously. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

It was Lilith. The woman was bundled up in a long dark coat, with a matching scarf and beanie. In her hand, she cradled a takeaway cup and her nose was light pink. Zelda self-consciously wiped at her own nose and eyes before she spoke, cringing at how hoarse her voice sounded. Emboldened by alcohol and the cover of darkness, while simultaneously yearning for company, Zelda offered Lilith a cigarette. The woman hesitated, and Zelda half expected her to decline, but the next moment she sunk down onto the bench. 

A ragged sound escaped Lilith’s throat as she inhaled, but Zelda didn't comment, the scene reminding her of her teenage self. They smoked in silence until Lilith held out a serviette towards her. Zelda contemplating refusing it, for _accepting_ it would confirm that she _needed_ it. Confirm that she was weak and sad. But when she looked into brilliant blue eyes, Zelda relented. It was just a serviette. 

Lilith tried to make cautious conversation, and at that moment Zelda hated herself. Had she not been tipsy, cold, and heartbroken, she might have rejoiced in the fact that she was finally exchanging words with the beautiful woman. But not tonight. Tonight her responses were brisk and as icy as the wind around them. When she stood, the empty bottles in her coat clinked together embarrassingly. There was a moment of awkward eye contact and a raised eyebrow, but Lilith said nothing more.

_That’s it_ , Zelda thought as she stumbled away, focusing very hard on walking as a sober person would. She’d messed up that first impression marvelously. 

***

Lilith occupied the bench on the opposite side of the gravel footpath, slightly to the left of Zelda’s. It was a new development, something that started happening after the night they met in the park. Zelda convinced herself that it was merely because the grass was now in a constant state of wetness. Unlike before, when Lilith seemed bored or frustrated, she now seemed to be hyper-focused, her hands gliding across the sketchbook in her lap. Zelda wondered what she was sketching, but tried to push the thoughts away. What a stranger was up to was none of her business. She stuck to her books or newspapers, pretending that the other woman simply wasn’t there. 

***

One afternoon she spotted Lilith rising from her bench and walking off the gravel path towards the woods. She crossed the grass slowly, her sketchbook hanging limply in her hands. Zelda was perplexed. What was she up to?

And that’s when she spotted it. A large snowy owl was perched on one of the trees just where the woods started. It was certainly rare for them to come so close to civilization, but this one didn’t seem to mind Lilith. Once she was close enough, Lilith stopped walking and flipped through her sketchbook and then promptly didn’t move for about twenty minutes. And neither did Zelda. She tried to find her place and continue reading, but she found Lilith’s still figure more entertaining.

So transfixed was she, that she didn’t notice someone walk up to her.

“Zelda? Is that you?”

Constance Blackwood was standing before her, a double pram at her side with two adorable toddlers strapped in. 

Zelda swallowed as guilt rose in her. It wasn’t too long ago that she had found herself underneath Constance’s husband. It was a moment of weakness, after running into Faustus on an errand in Riverdale, and before she knew it she was allowing herself to be pushed into the nearest motel. Afterward, he showed her pictures of his newborn twins, and Zelda hated herself. She couldn’t leave the motel soon enough and vowed to never think of it again.

Zelda collected herself and rose to hug Constance. Although Faustus had left Zelda for Constance all those years ago, she harbored no hatred towards the woman. She wondered just how much Constance would despise her if she knew the truth. 

They exchanged small talk and Zelda cooed at all the right moments when baby Judith and Judas were being cute. All the while she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder, hoping that Faustus, who apparently had business in town, wouldn’t show up.

***

Zelda immediately noticed when Lilith entered the empty park the next weekend. Not because Zelda was hoping she would and therefore looking out for her, but because the woman was lugging a full-sized easel with her. She placed her easel down against a tree and then turned to observe the forest. She seemed to be looking for something, and Zelda suspected it must be the owl from before. Zelda wondered if she should tell her that a wide pass of Harvey’s football chased it away nearly ten minutes ago.

Zelda pulled her focus back to the children before her. Sabrina was throwing the football back at Harvey, but the ball lost force halfway through the air, landing in the damp grass with a thud. 

“You need to put your back into it, Sabrina!” Zelda told her, “And concentrate on the direction that you want the ball to go in. Angle your body properly.”

Sabrina nodded as she bounded over to pick up the ball. Her face contorted in concentration, her nose scrunching as she lifted her arm. Her pass was much better, with more than enough force to make it all the way into Harvey’s waiting hands. The problem was that the pass was high, and although Harvey jumped and stretched his arms out in an attempt to catch it, it still soared over his head. The next moment Lilith’s easel came crashing down, and even with the distance between them, Zelda could see that one leg had broken off from the frame.

With a sigh, Zelda marched up behind her niece, who had sprinted towards Lilith, apologizing profusely in a voice that was becoming progressively more shrill. 

By the end of it all, Sabrina's lip was trembling and Zelda’s blood pressure felt dangerously high. Lilith on the other hand took it in stride, consoling Sabrina and cradling her canvas close to her chest. Zelda apologized as sincerely as she could while trying to remember it was an accident. It was she who had encouraged Sabrina to throw the ball properly, after all.

The apology seemed useless. The woman’s easel was clearly old, and Zelda doubted that she’d be able to fix it. That’s why the very same morning Zelda took Sabrina and her friends over the Sweetwater River bridge with the promise of large milkshakes from Pop’s when in actual fact she intended to purchase a popper replacement for Lilith. 

***

Zelda had planned to give Lilith the easel herself, together with another heartfelt apology. She had hoped that it could be a chance for them to start over and scrap how rude Zelda was when they met in the park after dark. It seemed, however, that the universe had other plans. Soon after she sat down upon returning from Riverdale to try to plan out what she would say, the home phone rang.

An hour-long conversion later, Zelda was in the car to fetch Hilda. She was still in shock. 

Andrew had a son?

It seemed impossible, and Zelda was inclined to express that to the woman who called. But, apparently, somewhere in South East England a 14-year-old boy by the name of Ambrose Spellman was the long-lost son of her late brother. There was proof, the woman on the phone had said. A birth certificate, citing Andrew as the biological father of a boy born almost exactly fourteen years ago, exactly two months before Andrew died.

It was absurd, but after a lengthy conversation with Hilda, and various emails from an orphanage in Hampshire, there was no doubt that this boy was fathered by Andrew. 

What was even crazier, was that Zelda was supposed to leave to collect the young boy and bring him back to America. His only other family, being his mother, had passed on weeks before, and all this time the orphanage had tried to track down whatever family he may have had left. 

Before 10 pm that evening, Zelda’s flight was booked for noon the next day, and her luggage standing ready at the foot of her bed. There was only one thing left to do. She collected a piece of paper from her office, writing Lilith a note, before pasting it to the top of the box. It was the best she could do, given the circumstances. She would hold off from speaking to Lilith until after she returned and instead bribed Sabrina to deliver the parcel to Lilith early the next morning. 

***

Her brief time in England left no doubts that the boy was a Spellman. He had the same kind eyes that Andrew had, the same mysterious smirk, and even his ears seemed similar. At first, Zelda feared that she was reaching, imagining these similarities. But there were other things, too. Amongst what little belongings Ambrose had taken to the orphanage, there was a photo. Andrew smiled brightly with a baby in his arms, and beside him was who Zelda assumed to be Ambrose’s mother. 

It was clear from the moment that Zelda laid eyes on the boy, why exactly Andrew had kept him a secret. Their mother and father would never have approved of him, and likely Andrew would have been thrown out. Having a grandson who was not just born out of wedlock, but also born with a dark complexion would have been the greatest of shame for them.

***

Within a week it was decided that Hilda and Zelda would take him in. The plane ride back to Greendale was awkward. The boy refused to speak, and what little words came out were stuttered. Zelda did not push him, for fear that it would alienate him even further. Besides, he wasn’t just grieving the loss of his mother, but the loss of an entire life that he left behind in England.

It didn’t get any better as the days progressed. By Christmas Eve, Ambrose was still spending the majority of his time in the attic. Although there were other spare bedrooms he could choose from, he insisted that the attic was his choice. That was one of the few times he spoke. He refused to join them for breakfast or lunch, and at dinner time Hilda practically had to drag him down the stairs. On Christmas Eve night, he refused to even come down for dinner and Hilda returned dejectedly from the attic, announcing that she would take a tray up for him instead.

“No,” Zelda said as she got up from the kitchen table. “In this house, we eat dinner together. As a family.” 

She marched up the stairs, but half of her anger tapered down by the time she reached the attic door. She’d have to be gentle with him, or else she might just make it worse. It took a minute for the door to open after her tentative knock. Ambrose was still dressed in his pajamas, the lack of light coming from his poorly illuminated room making him seem even smaller.

“Would you please come and join us for dinner?” Zelda started.

Ambrose shook his head.

“Why not? Are you not hungry?”

“I just don’t want to.”

Zelda felt her earlier anger flare up again. “In this family, we eat dinner together, or not at all. If you want food, I suggest you get dressed and join us in the kitchen.”

“You're not my family! And you're not my mother!” he exclaimed before he slammed his door.

Zelda did not cry. She took a deep breath and slowly walked down the stairs. She avoided looking at Hilda, who was nervously wringing her hands in the foyer. She walked straight into the kitchen and grabbed her cigarettes before disappearing out of the back door. There, she lit up a cigarette under the porch light and leaned heavily onto the railing as she tried to regulate her breathing.

Of course, she wasn’t his mother. She knew that.

In the end, after watching the snowfall for far longer than she should have without a coat, Zelda was the one who had to be dragged inside by Hilda promising her a warm dinner and a stiff drink. She didn’t want to leave the otherworldly quiet that the back garden was blanketed in, but she was freezing. Yet, despite a hearty dinner and two tumblers of whiskey later, still felt a peculiar coldness seeping into her bones. A coldness that had nothing to do with the weather. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can confirm that will actually interact in the last chapter lmao. Thanks for reading ❤ Come find me on [tumblr](https://saturn-silk.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this turned depressing at the end, but I promise it won't last long! Please let me know if you enjoyed this. It took me ages to write and plus I had to type half of this with one hand cause I sprained my wrist. Fun times xD Thanks for reading!


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